And Now, A Word From Our Content Provider

To keep me in gumball money, I've added another ad provider to the mix here at the site, because I just haven't been exploiting you people enough. ('m not going down the pop-up and screen takeover path, mostly because no one's made me an... um, because I feel it would be a bad user experience. Yeah, that's it.

Now, go click on some ads, buy some T-shirts and just plain give me your money via the Paypal button, because if you don't, I'm going to hold my breath for a really long time, then blog about it. And you'd rather see me blog about sports, right?

205 Drop: Top 12 Trim Tricks

I know you've been waiting to hear all of my poon-catching tips, children, and here they are... fresh from the realization that with my upcoming Halfway Or More Towards Death Notice, that it's time to start thinking about my legacy and all. A legacy that involves more tail than a man of my height, income level, intellect and looks (OK, especially the last one) should have achieved.

Anyway, go click, get queasy, maybe learn something, even if that something is that when you write five lists a week for a titty site, the only lists that people might pay attention to won't involve sports at all. Hard to believe, Harry.

205th Drop: Top 11 reasons why Jay Cutler had to leave the Broncos

As promised, here's the link to the list. It'll teach me my place in things, and the Broncos...

Blogrolling is Hooker-Riffic, Explosive and Holy

The Holy Hand Grenade, still causing problems after all these years.

Do you have a weakness for golfer on golfer violence, especially when it involves the cart? I know I do, especially when it involves the use of a cart, dragging a body, and cursing. Ask any of my old golfing buddies, and they'll tell you that's *my* move...

Do you have a weakness for A-Rod's hookers? I know I do. Plus, his madam dated him for free. Aw, that's sweet. True love!

(And in another small moment, consider the name of the skank du jour -- Kristin Davis. Here I was thinking that she played the prude on "Sex and the City", but it turns out that she's 20 years younger and blonde. What an actress!)

Oh, and one last thing... isn't using the services of a prostitute illegal? Someone needs to arrest that troublesome A-Rod. He broke the law.

The NFL considers moving the draft up to late February. The idea is to put the draft in front of free agency, to further kneecap the free agents. Makes sense to me, though not nearly as much sense as, say, providing a freaking spring league so that the most popular sport in the country doesn't have an 8-month off-season.

Oh noes! Shaq is doing online shenanigans during the halftime break, rather than, say, paying attention to what the coach is saying.

In other news, he just became the fifth leading all-time scorer in NBA history, mainly because he's an unstoppable combination of soft hands and utter power. Anything that makes him less focused on playing the game is, in my opinion, something to be applauded, since an angry focused Shaq is a danger to himself and others.

Sports By Brooks does the math to show that the average seat at the new Yankee Stadium is $237. That sound you heard was jaws dropping from coast to coast, but to be honest, I'm just not seeing the Yanks getting it in the long term. Yes, people make serious and ridiculous bank in the City, but at some point (especially when that New Stadium Smell wears off), paying more per hour for baseball than hookers is a losing proposition.

Angry Unpaid Hooker

Made by the guy who did the Budweiser "Lizard" spots, and about six minutes of deadpan goodness. Play it before vacuuming.

Let Us Now Show How Clever We Are

The Lemur wasted my time and yours tonight with trade rumors for Jason Taylor, and guess what they called the possible destination teams? Yes... wait for it... sit down because here comes the funny...

DANCE PARTNERS!

Get it? Because Taylor spent his off-season dancing on a reality show! And that means that for the rest of his life, no matter what he might do on a football field or off, including but not limited to an OJ Simpson-style freakout... he's going to be known for his wacky dancing!

Just like Emmit Smith, right? Oh, wait, Smith was on that show. Funny, I forgot.

Next, the Lemur then ran through the list of guys who rushed the quarterback who got run off once Parcells came to town. Without, of course, the context that NFL players are incredibly fungible, and that any list of pass rushers is going to include a lot of guys who are not there any more.

Now, will Taylor leave Miami? I don't know, and the Lemur doesn't, and if it actually has an impact on a team making the playoffs this year, I'll be legitimately surprised. But on the plus side, hey, dance jokes. I feel smarter now.

Crazy Like A Not Crazy Person

I caught the Sunday Night Baseball game on the Lemur last night, as the Cubs completed their sweep of the White Sox at Wrigley in the battle of first place Chicago baseball teams. (Which is, really, a post in itself, given that the series had absolutely no out-of-market hype before it happened, and a similar first place matchup between the Mets and Yankees, or even perhaps the Angels and Dodgers, would have gotten a lot more run. It's funny, isn't it, how pennant races and championships in + Media Markets mean more, doesn't it? Our readers in San Antonio are now nodding their heads so vigorously, it's working as air conditioning.)

Anyhoo... given that the Cubs were proceeding to complete their sweep and Ozzie Guillen wasn't foaming at the mouth, the Lemurcast went and dredged up the early June "meltdown" from the Wizard when he threw all of his hitters under the bus. The team, for all of you who aren't paying game to game attention to the ChiSox, then went on an offensive tear for a week or two, and remain atop the AL Central, mostly because the Tribe and Tigers have been a lot worse than anyone has expected so far this year. I suspect they are still just holding the seat warm for whichever club gets hot, or would be an easy out in the ALDS, but hey, that's why they play the games.

Joe Morgan then performed his self-appointed role of stating the obvious in a way that anyone with a functioning cerebellum would disavow; namely, that Guillen was crazy like a fox! You see, he motivates his team that way, and his team knows how to handle such things, and veterans like Jim Thome, AJ Pyrzinski and Jermaine Dye just took such things to heart and moved on. (Side note: does Morgan even listen to Morgan anymore?)

Which made me wonder... if the team are veterans and know to disregard it when Ozzie is pretending to be off his meds, why pretend in the first place?

The answer, of course, is that Guillen's got too much of an ego (not surprising, given that he's an ex-player who had a long career and even flirted with some All-Star teams in a time before highly regarded on base sabermetrics) to just sit there and lose, without thinking that he can bully his players into doing better.

It may even be true that he can get short-term results out of his players this way, much like a jockey with a whip in the homestretch. And while it's easy for a Dye or Thome to roll up his eyes, maybe it gets some rookie reliever all hot and bothered.

But if that's the case, why do this in June, when you have a big lead in the division? Wouldn't it make more sense to save that kind of negative fuel for August and September?

In this as in many things, Occam's Razor -- the ancient philosophical practice of believing the simplest and most likely explanation, rather than a self-serving conspiracy -- helps. Guillen orchestrates occasional meltdowns because they make him feel important and necessary, and they get him attention in a media market that the Cubs dominate, regardless of the on-field performance of both franchises.

He doesn't have a master plan to motivate his team, and he isn't crazy for the sake of crazy. He just is what he is: a media whore with a lower sense of shame than most.

Also, and this is the interesting part... he's the manager of a team that, as of this Monday morning, isn't pitching, fielding, or hitting very well, and just got its asses swept by their biggest rival. Anyone want to start the pool for his next blowup?

Show Me The Graft

You know the blog has hit the big time when we're on the radar of PR pros. Tragically misguided PR pros. This came over the transom yesterday...

Theatre Exile presents a return engagement of its hit show The Philly Fan by Bruce Graham, starring Tom McCarthy, and directed by Joe Canuso. A one-man tour-de-force in which two-time Barrymore Award winner Tom McCarthy takes audiences on a hilarious journey through the frustrations of the past fifty years of Philadelphia sports. This production is an in-your-face, tell-it-like-it-is romp through the memories of a hard core fan used to seeing sure-thing victories turn into “oh-my-God-they-blew-it” defeats. June 10-15 at The Playground at the Adrienne, 2030 Sansom Street. Tickets are $25 - $30 ($50 for the Opening Night Gala); call (215)922-4462 or visit www.ThePhillyFan.net

If you go, by all means mention FTT, and/or wear your Garment of Greatness. I'll be watching this show closely in preparation for my own one-man show, "Mr. Cranky Pants Writes In His Basement." It's a love story.

JV Drop: Blood from a Stone

The JV Master is another member of the sports blogosphere that wanted to give me a place to write during the Google Brownout (and no, still no word on why that happened). So here's a longer think piece on how you and I are going to be boned out of more dollars from the Lords of Sport in the very near future.

Anyway, go click and spread the Tooly love. He's counting on the 5 to 10 click traffic bump that's made us, um, not famous.

Think I'll Buy Me A Football Team

Astute viewers may notice the addition of a PayPal Donate button on the right hand task bar, and wonder where we get the nerve to ask for donations, seeing how we have ads.

Well, it's threefold.

1) I run some fantasy leagues, and the owners in those leagues have requested a way to pay remotely. So, voila.

2) Some T-shirt buyers would rather use credit. Now, they can.

3) Just because I sell myself to advertisers and other blogs doesn't mean I can't also hock myself to some FTT readin' sugar daddy. And for just a $75 pledge, you get a tote bag!



We now return you to your regularly scheduled blog, written while enjoying a nice tall frosty Budweiser. Ahh!!! (Have we also mentioned that product placement contracts are A-OK in our books?)

Weeds Drop: Top 10 Rules for Hacks

Yes kids, another group blog wants l'il ol' me to help fill their bloghole. Your link is here.

In The Weeds is a golf-only blog, and having just ran into my best friend and golfing partner from back in the day when I had time to do such things... well, let's just say the memory has been tapped. Along with the open question of where the nearest driving range is, because I do know where my clubs are. And there we are, right back on the junk, howling at the moon, face down in the gutter...

Whorifying

The streets of New York are awash in people clutching newspapers with the latest Jose Canseco allegations towards Alex Rodriguez... and I'm not going to get into the substance of those now, because there's actual journalists out there who get paid their weight in bottom ramen for that sort of thing. Besides, the last time that people said Canseco was a liar, he, um, wasn't, and nearly all of the people he fingered (as opposed to injected) turned out to be Roid Achievers.

No, what I'd rather talk about here is the transparent motives of all involved. Canseco needs to pimp his book (personally, I'd like to see the man branch out into poetry, or perhaps The Theater). A-Rod needs to shrug off any allegation. The Yankees need to pretend this stuff doesn't bother them, and that paying a guy more than the gross national product of many sub-Saharan nations doesn't mean he has to keep his name out of the NY Post. The Lemur needs to get the cheap ratings high from a train wreck story, all while pretending to hold their nose over the awful awfulness of covering train wreck stories. And all of us in the sports blogosphere feel like we've got to comment on it, because it's damn near impossible not to.

So, there you have it.

Canseco's a media whore.

A-Rod's a media whore.

The media are whores.

And me, for pointing all of that out, and you, for caring (and admit it, you do care)...

We're beyond sin, really.

Now, does this mean that A-Rod will be undervalued in my roto auction?

Epic Drop: Top 11 Reasons Why Wrigley Field Can't Change It's Name

Your list is here, and yes, it is a little gift to longtime FTT contributor The Truth. Though I'm not sure that I'd call viewing this video a gift...

In Which We Praise Yao

The Economist
The number of Internet users in China grew an astonishing 50 percent in 2007, ending the year at 210 million users, according to the Chinese government. And there's still a long, long way to grow, as 210 million represents just 16 percent of the Chinese population.

More than 70 percent of China's Internet population is under 30. As such, "there is enormous pent-up demand for entertainment, amusement and social interaction," says Richard Ji, an analyst at Morgan Stanley. Chinese Internet companies have seen their share prices rise sharply; their collective market cap is now above $50 billion, having doubled just about every year since 2003, according to the Economist.

Welcome, Chinese readers who know enough English to do a Google search for Yao Ming! We're sure that you'll find lots to like here at FTT, including lots of text mentions of Yao Ming, because we're sure you all love that Yao Ming nearly as much as you like the image we found for you.

Yao's on my fantasy team, so I like him too!

(Goes to check Web logs to see if there's anything. Nothing. Not even a Chinese cricket, or an insulting SalesGenie ad search.)

Screw you people. Your cheap electronics and sweatshop labor practices have done more to ruin the economy and ecology than Hummer and Haliburton combined. The upcoming Olympics are going to make Munich '36 look like Light N' Easy Propaganda. You are firing freaking *rockets* in the air to stop the horror of rain. And your new love for inflation is going to be the death blow for the American economy, and ensure that my kids will grow up in squalor and deprivation, regardless of my bad gambling picks. Yao's gutless, too. 7'-6" and he can't play defense. I wash my hands of you. Fah.

(Sudden realization that the time zone difference could be the cause of lack of traffic...) Hey, did you know that Yao's up to 2.2 blocked shots per game now? That's a career high!

101010100 = Hike

So I'm catching up with Spiritual Hero Stephen Colbert, and he interviewed the freakish author of the tome that appears to the right of these words. While it seems odd and wrong and something only a complete loser would go for... well, the same thing was true of personal ads and dating sites in the not-so-distant past, so maybe the author has a point. But enough about cold and impersonal nooky, and the inevitable and sad jokes about my first marriage. Getting back to the point of the blog, at what point does sports transcend the ability of humans to perform it?

We've already seen this in chess, where a computer has beaten many grandmasters. Recently, a competitor with an implant raised questions in a track and field event. If you are one of the glibertarians who believe that steroids are just fine, then cybernetics is as well. So why not root for robots?

We'll start with the welcome innovation of field goal kickers that don't break your heart. After a few years and the inevitable cozying up to the Vinateri2000, we'll move to wall-like offensive line "men" that never jump offsides, no matter how loud the road crowd is. Next up, a possession wide receiver that never whines to the ref for a flag. It's all good!

Finally, we'd reach the culmination in a quarterback that really does know when the pressure is coming, a second before it happens... not that, of course, the pressure will ever get there, due to the force field of protection that will wrap it in a warm cocoon until the milisecond before the ball is launched. Plus, we'll never have to worry about QB Robo (as opposed to QB Romo) losing his focus for some hussy she-bot!

I, for one, will welcome our Robot Overlords, but only if they are wearing Eagle Green. But I can't help but think we'll always have last year's model or software... or that the PatriotBots are introducing viruses to their opponents.

Does $1,000 an hour get you the rough stuff?

Miami point guard / turnstile / turnover machine / streakless shotoer Jason Williams on recent trade rumors:

"We're like some high-paid prostitutes anyway in this league. They just use and get rid of us whenever they want."

The Miami Sun-Sentinel than notes that Williams is in the final year of a contract that pays $8.9 million this season.

So, doing the math... Jason makes just about $1,016 per hour; let's call that $1,000 even, for simplicity sake. Seems high to me, but I'm a married guy, and haven't ever been in the market, let alone for a big tall tattooed love child like White Chocolate. So, whaddya say, ladies or men on the other team... is he worth it? (I suppose we can open this up to Heat fans who'd just want to spend the hour in degradation games, but the only basketball player I've ever felt that strongly about is Armon Gilliam. Armon, if you're reading this, I'd still like to see you eat dog food in a Sixers jersey from the year of the Barkley trade. It would bring a kind of closure.)

The Epic Drop: NFL v. Photographers

Today's top 10 chucklefest involves future moves by the NFL to make life miserable for those uppity photographers. And just because they don't want to wear a vest that looks like what I had to wear as a minimum wage security guard back in college. Pussies!

Paying For It

Upon learning that the ratings for the NHL Finals were the lowest in 12 years, we were reminded of a Bill Simmons point (yes, he occasionally makes one).

He asked the reader what you would rather have: a WNBA championship for your city, or five bucks.

Leaving us with the realization that we probably would not go much higher for an an NHL championship for our old home town (Philadelphia).

And that, well, there's just an awful lot that we *would* be happy to pay for. Post your own in the comments.

$10 to put Tony Kornheiser in a cage with Joey Porter's dogs. (We'd have gone with Mike Vick here, but that's just too easy.)

$20 for the Philadelphia Flyers to win the Stanley Cup.It would basically be a gift to a few friends. (We'd make it $10, but it's tacky to spend that little on a gift.)

$30 for the keys to the MaddenCruiser, just so I could drive off as he's trying to get in. "I'm waiting here, and BOOM!, now my fat ass is hitchhiking. Seriously, someone kill that guy."

On second thought, let's forget we said anything here.

$40 for Joe Buck to get caught in a Marv Albert style sex scandal, just to make the constant "disgusting" joke such a winner for everyone.

$60 for Barry Bonds to not break the home run record.

$70 if he winds up one home run short.

$80 for Bonds to not break the record because, for a week's worth of games where he is one home run away, every MLB pitcher walks him at every plate appearance.

$90 if, instead of walking him, they just throw at his HGH-infested head.

$100 for the Phillies to win the World Series. This would be a bigger gift to a bigger group of friends.

Also, riots are always fun, from a distance.

$125 for Terrell Owens to go out like Irvin - on a stretcher, in Philadelphia, as the hometown fans satisfy their bloodlust in a way that nauseates their social bettters.

We'll make it $150 if Brian Dawkins has the hit that does it, and he celebrates like a rabid wolverine. (Little known fact: wolverines are required by cliche law to be rabid.)

$150 for an exciting NBA Finals -- you know, one where the teams are withing 10 points of each other for the majority of the game, where there was some semblance of doubt as to which team would win, and where both coaching staffs could be trusted to find their own ass without the use of both hands and a map.

$200 for the Sixers to win the NBA Finals. We'd go higher, but the world ending would probably make it hard to get to the ATM.

$250 for the A's to win the World Series. For old times sake, to see Athletics Nation go apeshit, and just because I admire the way they run things.

Also, because it would get Bay Area media to stop talking about Bonds and the Giants for a good hour.

OK, half an hour.

$300 for FTT Commenter Dirty Davey's Dream Season: The Cowboys and Redskins each go 1-15, with their only win being on the other team's turf, so that their fans have winless seasons. If and when this happens, we are utterly certain that both teams would make Incredible Off-Season Free Agent Signings that will guarantee their future dominance over the division. Just like, you know, the last 5 years.

I realize that the Dream Season is a lot of money, but after I buy this for him, I think he'll be doing yard work at my house for several years in gratitude.

The fact that he lives 500 miles away from me would not deter him.

$500 for FTT to be embroiled in a pissing match with some broadcast media type with thin skin and the ability to swamp us with traffic that delights in their discomfort.

Come on, Howard Eskin -- we called you a chancre. What's it going to take?

Joe Buck, are you going to take those rumors that you were a wig and ask prostitutes to bite you lying down?

Bill Walton, I've got so much to give. It would be a shame to waste.

(I know you're expecting a Simmons joke here, but he'd never deign to sully his hands on a mere sports blogger. Haven't you heard we're beneath His Sports Guyness?)

Come on, boys. A fast $500 to the first one that makes us (even more) famous. Step right up, step right up...

$1000 for the Eagles to win the Super Bowl. My mom was a teenager the last time this happened. Besides, she's tough to shop for.

Also, I suspect that once this happened, Andy Reid could devote more time to his family, which could cut down on the region's police and prison costs. So it would be a win-win for all concerned.

Greetings, Wall Street Journal Readers

Today, FTT continued its long ascent to Ruling Antarctica by getting linked and mentioned in the Wall Street Journal. (No, seriously.)

We'd like to welcome our WSJ visitors by pointing out some features that Readers Like You tend to enjoy.

> The Journal piece that you were reading encouraged going to different baseball stadiums. Enjoy our ongoing series of visits to places that you can't go to anymore, Crap Holes We Have Known. It's filled with juicy travel tidbits that you just can't find anywhere else!

> Seeing how the WSJ demographic tends toward NYC readers, you might also enjoy our series of Yankees posts almost as much as we've enjoyed the 2007 season. Dig in!

> Finally, since we have first-hand knowledge of what white-color types like you really want, and will spend up to $20 for in a restroom, there's this. Read it until you go blind!

Now, who wants to give us some venture capital?

Yankees Increase Gate Share To Losing Teams

(Roiders News Service) In a controversial move that has been highly applauded by their fans, the New York Yankees today announced that they were going to start offering a double share of the gate to opposing teams in the event of a loss at Yankee Stadium.

"Let's face it -- this is a very, very tough place for an opponent to play," said team president Randy Lopez. "It's also very expensive. After a long hard day of fighting the New York Dynasty, our guests deserve to have a nice night on the town. That's all."

"I appreciate the Yankees being so hospitable," said Seattle left-handed Jarrod Washburn, the losing pitcher in Sunday's game. "All of us can't be Yankees, but we all can benefit from them being in the league. Very classy."

Red Sox management had no immediate comment, but sources inside the organization report that the club is considering going to a triple share.